


I just need your body, baby

by colazitron



Series: 2018 December Holiday Fic Countdown [4]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: The Pentrators are throwing a ridiculous party because of some damage they did to a cabin over the Easter break, and the ballon boys + Even decide to crash said party.





	I just need your body, baby

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made this all up and am sharing it only for fun.
> 
>  **A/N:** for anon who wanted Even and penetrator Chris hooking up!

Even is exhausted.

It's not the exhaustion of January and February, the kind that could have fucked him up so much more than it did if Mikael hadn't chased after him when the first shock wore off after--

Anyway.

This is not that.

This is just the fact that Even's in his last year of school and he lost two months to an all-compassing, sad, emptiness in his head at the beginning of the year. He's glad that the school administration was so forthcoming and tried so hard to help him make those two months up, but Even can't pretend they weren't exhausting months. When everyone went away and partied over the Easter break, Even went to school every day to take exams and make sure that he could return to normal classes with everyone else after the break.

So it's not the kind of… _depressed_ exhaustion that Even still can't wrap his head around having to deal with for the rest of his life, but it's a bone-deep tiredness anyway. There's been more than one occasion when Even's sat at the kitchen table with his books spread out in front of him and tears rolling down his cheeks.

His grades aren't quite up to their usual standard, but they're good enough that he can get there by the time exams roll around, and that's honestly more than Even thought was possible only a few weeks ago.

Today's been his first full day off, and if Even wasn't kind of terrified of staying in bed all day, that's what he would have done. Instead, he stayed in bed until noon, and then went outside to meet his friends for coffee and a bit of basketball. Even's not particularly good at it, but he's tall and the boys are pretty into it, so he plays a game or two before bowing out with Mutta and sitting on the sidelines, huddled close together as they come down from the heat of the game, suddenly a little cold in the late March air.

“So, there's a party on Friday,” Mutta says.

Even hums and picks up Mutta's arm to put it around his shoulders and lean against him.

“The Nissen Penetrators trashed a cabin over Easter so they're having a party to raise money to pay for the damages – and to help Syrian refugees,” Mutta goes on. “Their motto's _Riot Club_.”

“What the fuck,” Even says, sitting up a little to look at Mutta.

Mutta laughs and shrugs, and then pulls Even down against his side again.

“Yeah, they're fucking dumb.”

“Magnusson is loaded. Surely he can pay for it,” Even points out.

“Maybe daddy cut him off from the trust fund. I don't know. But listen, they're bound to have the good stuff – drinks and greens. And chicks. Or dudes! You need to get over Sonja.”

Even grimaces and snuggles closer.

“It's been two weeks,” he grumbles.

Mutta sighs.

“I know. It's chill. You don't really have to. We just thought you worked so hard for these exams and… maybe a little distraction would take your mind off… everything.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Even allows. “I'll think about it.”

“Cool. That's all I'm asking.”

 

That is, of course, not all he's asking, and after a week of gentle prodding, Even puts on the jeans that make his legs look great and swipes his hair up off his face for the first time in months. He puts on a dark maroon hoodie over his t-shirt and then grabs his denim jacket. He even puts on cologne.

“You're going out?” Mum asks as he passes her and dad in the living room. She looks like she can't quite decide if she's excited or worried.

“Yeah, with the boys,” he says. “I don't think I'll be long, but I've got my phone and if I'm going to be home after midnight or staying over with one of them, I'll text you. Okay?”

Mum considers it for a moment and then smiles.

“Of course. Come give me kiss,” she says and opens her arms, leaning up when he walks over to the sofa and leans down to kiss her cheek.

She brushes her hand over his hair carefully and squeezes him a little.

“Have fun, honey,” she says when he stands up straight again and she leans back against the back rest of the sofa, one hand coming to rest on dad's thigh, who grins at him.

“Be good,” he says, half-joking as always.

Even laughs a little.

“Always,” he promises, and then turns on his heel.

He meets the boys a few tram stops over, and their cheering and raucous laughter is as infectious as always.

“Well, look at you!” Elias crows, and Even does a little spin for them.

“You can hardly tell I've been depressed all year so far,” he jokes, and for a moment everyone freezes, before Elias snorts a laugh.

“Shit, man. You can't just-- we were not ready.”

“Well, get ready,” Even says, and tries to swallow his frantically beating heart back down. “I thought we were moving on tonight.”

“Good man,” Mutta says and claps Even on the back heavily, before reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Fuck you!” Even shouts and ducks out from under his hand, running his own hand up and through his hair in hopes of giving it some of its shape back.

“Can't have you showing us up,” Mutta grins, making Adam and Mikael burst into laughter while Even throws up his hands.

“ _Try_ _a little_ _, Even_ ,” Even mocks. “ _No, not that_ _much_ _, Even_. Make up your fucking minds!”

“You're still pretty,” Yousef grins and slings his own arm over Even's shoulders.

Even stares at him warily, but Yousef only pinches his cheek and then starts leading them off towards the tram stop so they can get going.

 

The party's already in pretty full swing when they get there and there's no one checking the door, so they just slip past the couples making out on the staircase and into the crowd inside the flat.

“I'll go check out the bar,” Mutta says, and Adam nods and follows him.

“Water please!” Even yells after them and Adam turns back to give them a thumbs-up.

“You're not drinking?” Yousef asks as they make their way through the crowd, trying to find a place that isn't quite right next to the door.

“Not supposed to,” Even says and looks out at the crowd. It's exactly how he imagined a Penetrators party to be – although, no, their motto is _Riot Club_ now, isn't it? There's booze almost everywhere and most people are coupled up and grinding on the makeshift dancefloor or in various stages of flirting and making out off the dancefloor. There's a bunch of what have to be first- and second-year girls too, and Even rolls his eyes at the predictability.

Mutta and Adam find them and start handing out bottles of water and cans of soda.

Even pops the tab on the coke they hand him and takes a sip. If he's not getting drunk, he might as well get a sugar high, he supposes. He wonders if this amount of caffeine and sugar can affect his meds too, but he supposes the doctors would have mentioned if they could. He's not thrilled about having to live the sober life, but he also doesn't want to fuck this up so soon. He's been advised to stay away from alcohol completely at least until the summer, and Even's damn well going to try.

Adam launches into a story about a girl he's trying to ask out as soon as they've all had their first sips and settled in, and Elias immediately steps in to flavour the story with some choice commentary. Even turns away from the crowd and to his friends, laughing along with them.

It's not the worst party he's been at, if he's honest. It's obnoxious and the fact that these idiots are really auctioning themselves off for dates – and more so that it's working – makes Even want to despair, but the music's good and there's no end to the drinks and even some snacks in the kitchen when Even goes to get himself another coke, so he grabs a bag of roasted peanuts as well.

Eventually, their group starts to splinter, drawn away by the promise of a girl to dance with or talk to, and eventually Even finds himself dancing with a redhead who's wearing a silver snapback backwards on her head. He can't quite hear her when she tells him her name, but judging by the slightly glazed over look in her eyes she won't even remember that he doesn't give his own in return. She's still fun to dance with though, doesn't seem to give a shit about what she looks like so long as she's having fun and Even gets drawn into it, goofs off with her until she spots a blonde with severe red lipstick and throws herself on her instead.

Suddenly the music's a little loud and the room a little too hot, so Even shoulders his way through the crowds until he finds a balcony off behind what seems to be the unused DJ booth, a spotify playlist running off of someone's phone. The balcony seems blessedly empty half-hidden behind half-drawn curtains and Even steps outside and takes a deep breath of the cold night air, feeling his bones settle. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees it's already 23:20, his alarm set to go off in 30 minutes so he doesn't forget to text his mum.

“Still at the party. All is well. <3” he sends her and then pockets the phone again. He has no idea where the boys are, but he feels a little tired now that he's allowing himself to come down from the party high again. He'll go have a piss and see if he can't find any of them and then get out of here. The party's about to tip over into people being unbearably drunk anyway.

After another few deep breaths Even makes his way back inside, shouldering through the crowd until he finds the bathroom. He glances down at the lock, and though it doesn't look locked, he knocks anyway.

He doesn't get an answer, but before he can open the door, it's being pulled open from the inside, a hand closes around his wrist and drags him inside. He's being kissed before he's even really registered what happened.

The door falls shut behind them and Even pushes whoever it is off.

“What the fuck?” he says and reaches up to wipe his mouth, feeling his blood ring in his ears.

“You're not Thea,” the guy says, though he doesn't look particularly bothered by that fact.

“What the fuck?” Even repeats.

The guy shrugs and grins up at Even. He comes up to about Even's nose at best, so Even has no idea how he could have mixed him up with whoever Thea is, unless she's unusually tall.

“Looks like I got stood up,” the guy says. “But you're cute too.”

“Thanks?” Even says, at a complete loss of what else to say.

The guy seems to take that as an invitation and takes a step closer, still grinning up at Even.

“Wanna stay?” he asks, and then goes on, before Even can say anything, “I'm Chris. What's your name?”

“Are you really asking me if I want to hook up with you in a bathroom?” Even asks, completely baffled, instead of answering the question.

“Well, we could go find a bedroom, if you'd rather,” Chris suggests. “This is my friend's place, so I know he wouldn't mind.”

That must mean he's Chris Schistad, second-penetrator-in-command after Magnusson.

Even wrinkles his nose a little. Sure, he's cute, all bright smile and floppy hair. Cheekbones and great arms. A little on the short side, but a compact, tight little body, from what Even can guess at. The whole Pentrator-Riot-Club thing is just so unbearably obnoxious.

Chris takes another step forward, boxing Even in against the bathroom door with his arms.

“I'd like an actual try at kissing you at least,” he says, voice lower now because he's closer and he's trying to get a reaction out of Even. “You're really _very_ pretty.”

Even feels his belly twist with pleased heat, some of it crawling up into his cheeks as he looks down at Chris, his dark eyes twinkling up at him. Even's never-- he's never really even kissed another boy, except for-- well. Anyway, that hardly counts.

He supposes the mechanics aren't all that different to kissing a girl.

And Chris might be a bit of a dick but that also means Even definitely doesn't have to worry about this being anything but a one time hook-up.

And his mouth is _quite_ pink.

Fuck it.

“Bedroom,” he says, and licks his own lips, trying to calm the nerves that want to clog up his throat and have his heart gallop right out of his chest.

Chris looks surprised for a second or two, face split open like he really wasn't expecting it to work, but then it falls back into what Even assumes is a practised mask of seduction and he grabs Even's hand again.

“Follow me,” he says, and then pulls him out of the bathroom.

Chris seems entirely unconcerned by the fact that he's pulling another boy through a crowd of people by the hand, and that anyone who knows the layout of the flat – or can read context cues – will know that it's in the direction of a bedroom.

It's kind of exciting.

Even really wasn't sure he could just hook up with a boy the same way he maybe could have hooked up with a girl – though he's never done that either, given that he's been in a relationship for the past three years. Still, the thought of it is easier, at least. He's seen his friends do it often enough. And it's not that Even thinks it necessarily should be different with boys, it just feels like it is.

So he's glad, that Chris is pulling him along and doesn't seem fucked about anyone seeing them. It turns the nervous stutter of Even's heart in his chest into excitement, makes him stumble into the bedroom eagerly and let Chris push him up against the door on the inside.

The lock clicks into place with a sort of finality when Chris reaches past him to turn the key and Even lets himself slouch a little against the door to put himself closer to eye level with Chris. Closer to kissing level.

“You still haven't told me your name,” Chris says and lets his hand move from the key to Even's hip, curling around it.

“Even,” Even says and brings one of his own hands up to curl in the front of Chris' shirt. He's not really sure what to do with them, but then Chris leans in closer to kiss him again.

This time it's deliberate – a slow press of lips and the weight of a body behind it. Even lets his eyes fall shut and pulls on Chris' shirt a little, dragging him closer. If he's going to do this, he's going to do it properly, so he opens his mouth under Chris' and swipes his tongue over his lips. He's pretty sure Chris grins into the kiss, but then he reciprocates it, tangling his tongue with Even's in a way that's both slow and intimate and makes Even shiver all the way down his spine and legs until his toes feel like their tingling.

They stay there for a while. Even doesn't know how long exactly, but by the time Chris pulls away to take in a deep gulp of air, his hair's messy and Even's hands are both on Chris' body, feeling out the contours of his chest and arms. Chris' own have snaked up under Even's hoodie, and he's leaning against him even more heavily. It means that he needs to tilt his head up to kiss Even, but if Even's reading this correctly, he likes that.

So he straightens up a bit and lets his hands slide up over Chris' arms and neck, holds his face in between them and pulls him up a little into another kiss.

Chris makes a noise like a surprised little moan, and Even can feel him press up to meet him in the kiss which must mean that he pushed up onto the balls of his feet.

Fuck.

Fuck, Even didn't think he'd be into that.

Sonja must have done that countless times, pulled him down to meet her countless more and Even's never really had a clear preference for either. It was just kissing her.

But with Chris, maybe because, uncharitable though the thought is, he doesn't really care about Chris so much as he cares about the kissing, it feels good.

“Take this off,” Chris mumbles against Even's mouth and tugs on Even's hoodie.

Come to think of it, Even is feeling pretty hot.

“Yeah,” he agrees and moves back just long enough to pull it up over his head before moving in to kiss Chris again.

Chris grabs him by the hips and starts walking backwards, obviously knows the layout of this room well enough to do this in the dark.

“Wanna get you off,” Chris says when they bump into the bed and pulls back from Even's mouth to look at him.

Even swallows heavily, licks his lips and then nods. He feels like his eyes are a little too wide, belie the casual aura he's trying to project, but Chris doesn't call him on it, just twists around to turn on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a low, yellow light.

Then he whips off his t-shirt and-- yep. Even was right. It's a good body he's got.

“Come on,” he says, and grabs the hem of Even's t-shirt, pulling that off too.

Even doesn't really dwell on what Chris thinks when he sees Even's body, and whatever it is can't be too bad since Chris crawls up onto the bed and then reaches for Even to pull him down on top of him.

It's a weird mix of familiar and unfamiliar, hovering over Chris and kissing him. There's just the faintest hint of stubble coming in on Chris' jaw and now that Even's whole face has gone sensitive he can really feel it. The chest under his is just as smooth and flat as his own except for the slightly deeper lines of his pecs and abs. But there aren't any boobs, any of the soft curves that Even is used to.

He doesn't care.

More, this is just as exciting as Even thought it would be. It's good, feeling the swell of muscle in Chris' arm, hearing the baritone in his voice when he moans, pressing their hips together and feeling that unmistakeable hardness press back against his own.

“Fuck, that's good,” Chris says when Even pushes his hips forward, rocks down into Chris' body.

Even does it again, shifts around so he can put his weight on his knees and arms, prop himself up and give himself room to move.

Chris wraps one arm around his back, clutching at his bare skin, and puts the other hand in his hair, pulling him down to kiss again. Even doesn't quite manage the coordination to keep up a good kiss and a good rhythm, but Chris doesn't seem to care. He bucks up to meet him thrust for thrust and Even sinks into the feeling of pleasure building in his belly. He can feel it warm and low in his core and then all along his spine, tingling in his toes as it builds.

Chris moans against his mouth and then lets go, reaches down between their bodies to fumble both their pants open and shove at them clumsily.

“Fuck,” Even curses and ducks his head, putting his mouth on the naked skin of Chris' shoulder when Chris' hand closes around his dick and pulls it out of his underwear. Chris' thumb swipes through the precome gather at the tip and swipes it down, spreads it over as much of Even's dick as he can. The circle of his fist is just the right kind of tight as he jerks Even off, and Even mouths mindlessly at his skin, trying not to fall apart at the feeling.

“You can put a hickey on me if you want,” Chris pants, and Even didn't even notice that that's what he's been doing, but he has.

So he redoubles his efforts, tries to delay his orgasm by focusing on coaxing Chris' blood closer to the surface, tongue and teeth and lips and suction all trying to leave a mark. Indelible evidence of what happened between them on Chris' skin. The hand Chris doesn't have wrapped around his dick has returned to Even's neck, and Even can feel the tease of his fingernails on his skin, so he's pretty sure they're both going to end up with some marks.

Eventually, Even pulls back from Chris' skin, looks down at the bruise he's left and then at Chris' face. His eyes are shiny with pleasure and his mouth is bitten red, colour splotched over his cheeks and his floppy hair slightly damp with sweat at the roots. He looks almost ruined, and all the prettier for it.

Even doesn't even really think about it when he reached down between them and pulls Chris' dick out of his underwear too, pushes their jeans down. It just feels natural. Chris isn't stopping him either, rather watching with rapt attention, so Even grabs one of Chris' thighs and lifts it up, makes room between Chris' thighs for his hips.

It's a little ridiculous, with their jeans down around their knees, but Even doesn't have the patience to get them off right now. He just wants to feel Chris again, so he leans forward and lines their dicks up next to each other. Presses down as he rocks forward.

Chris moans and nods.

“Fuck, yes. Please,” he breathes, and Even leans over him further and does it again. Thrusts down against Chris' body like he's thrusting into him instead and watches him bite at his own mouth, eyes pulled shut and a concentrated frown on his brow like he's trying to take in nothing but the sensation in his body.

Even touches their foreheads together and picks up speed, presses down until Chris sinks into the mattress a little and wraps his arms back around Even's back, nails definitely biting into Even's skin now. The small spike of pain only makes Even want to go faster, makes him tilt his face down until he can catch Chris' mouth with his own. Calling it a kiss would maybe be a bit too generous, but they pant into each other's mouths and then finally Even feels the pleasure inside him swell up into a wave, cresting before he's fully comprehended it.

He moans into Chris' face and ruts down against him, riding out his own orgasm. Chris must come too, Even thinks, because he's suddenly shivering and scratching lines down Even's back that make him grab hold of Chris' hair, a feedback loop of intensity and pleasure that only stops when their heartbeats start slowing down again and the ringing in Even's ears abates.

Chris groans, low and pleased, and seeks Even's mouth out for another kiss.

When he pulls away, he rolls over and grabs a few tissues from the bedside table, handing some to Even before he wipes himself off.

“Fuck, that was good,” Chris says.

Even feels the hysterical urge to laugh, so he does. Not hysterically, but a small pleased laugh anyway. It was good.

“Yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

Chris winks at him.

“Anytime, babe. You know where to find me.”

It's probably one of the most arrogant things Even's ever heard, but he's not even mad about it. He would know where to find Chris too, so it's also infuriatingly true.

Instead of answering, he just does his jeans back up and gets up to grab his t-shirt and hoodie from the floor.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Chris offers.

Even can't tell if he's hoping he'll turn him down or not, but he shakes his head anyway.

“Nah, thanks. I was just on my way out,” Even says.

Chris waggles his eyebrows. “Glad you let me delay you then.”

Even shrugs and grins.

“Well, you're _very_ pretty,” he says and leans down to take one last kiss from Chris' swollen, pink lips. He probably looks just as ruined himself, but he doubts it looks as good on him as it does on Chris. He hasn't even put on a shirt yet, barely pulled up his jeans, sat in the middle of the bed like he doesn't give a fuck.

“Alright then,” Chris says when Even pulls back. “See you around, Even.”

Even's honestly a little impressed Chris remembered his name at all.

“See you around,” Even agrees, even if he's not sure he's going to.

He leaves Chris in the bedroom and keeps his head down as he makes his way back to the bathroom to have that piss he wanted earlier. He runs a wet hand through his hair when he's washed his hands, and tries to will the flush off his cheeks. It won't work.

Well. Maybe if he's lucky people will think he's just drunk. And if not, then--- fuck it.

The boys are all swaying in one large group in the living room when he comes back out, so Even walks over and slots in between Mikael and Yousef.

“What's up, man?” Yousef grins at him, and Even grins back and shrugs. None of them call him on his flushed face and ruined hair, and Even's secretly grateful for it. He'll tell them all about it tomorrow, but he doesn't really want the whole party to know anymore than they already do.

“I'm gonna get going,” he says. “I'm over it.”

“I bet,” Elias snorts, and Mutta claps him over the back of his head.

Even only laughs and winks at Elias.

“Tired,” he says.

There's token protest, but after a few hugs they let him go. Even digs his denim jacket out of the pile of jackets by the door and bounces down the stairs.

The night air is cold but pleasant on Even's heated face as he takes huge breaths of it. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to text his mum that he's on his way home and then pulls his hood up over his head against the slight breeze and shoves his phone back into his pocket, and his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

The skin of his lips still tingles with the rasp of Chris' stubble and Even grins into the night. Exciting new times lie ahead.

 

**T he End**


End file.
